Between Breaths
by KiwiTwinkieReeses
Summary: Two unlikely strangers desperate for comfort, love, and acceptance find solice in each other's arms for a night, or longer? We own nothing but our imaginations. Written with Kiah and Chelsea. Graphicness, don't like it, don't read it.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"You're never fucking there for me!"

"What the shit! I come home every damn night to see you, and you're always 'busy'!"

Screams and curses echoed through the bright, expensive Californian home, the sunlight gleaming through the spotless windows, filling the room with brilliant light. The house was a mess, with broken items strewn across the cream-colored carpet and overturned furniture sticking out against the light surface of the walls. A glass figurine went sailing through the air, only to collide with the opposite wall and shatter to pieces.

"Would you just stop destroying everything and _listen_ to me?" A deep, smooth, male voice said, calmer than before. "Why?" Spat a different voice, female this time. "Tell me why the fuck I should listen to _you_, Dj. You've done nothing but lie to me during this whole damn relationship."

A young man with messy black hair and striking blue eyes sighed, raising a hand to wipe it across his face tiredly. "I haven't been lying," he said, his voice quiet and exhausted, "You knew damn well I was sleeping with somebody else."

A sandy-haired woman stood across from her adversary, her arms crossed in front of her surgery enhanced chest, gray-blue eyes staring him down. "You shouldn't have done it in the first place, idiot!"

Dj sighed hopelessly and rolled his silver gray hued eyes. "Don't act like such a fucking saint, Tiffany. I know all about the affairs you had." The corner of his pierced lip twitched in a small, triumphant and satisfied smile as he saw her expression turn stony and cold. "Oh yeah, I knew all about the different guys you were haulin' into our bed, Tiff. I knew about all of them. I didn't think you'd do the fucking _mailman_."

"Oh, shut up Dj! You're such a prick," the blond woman exclaimed, storming across the room, gathering her things that were haphazardly placed. Then she stopped and whirled around, pointing an accusatory finger in Dj's direction. "You! You fucked that stupid little brunette slut! What, did she have bigger boobs than me, or something?"

"Trust me, Tiff," the boy said with a lazy drawl, "That wasn't nearly the case. I mean, you went fucking overboard, no girl has bigger tits than a crazy bimbo like yourself." Tiffany stopped and stared at Dj with wide, shocked eyes. "Fine. Fuck it, I'm out of here."

Dj felt a sudden stab of regret, but said nothing more than a cold, "Fine."

Tiffany gathered her things and stuffed them into an oversized blue and gray duffle, her stiletto heels clacking noisily on the hardwood floors as she stormed towards the door. "Don't bother calling me, asshole." She growled, raising her elongated, fake-nail adorned middle finger to the air as she haughtily crossed the stone driveway to her black Porsche.

Dj watched her go with an emotionless expression, waiting until her sporty little car had disappeared down the road before closing the white door and bee lining for the liqueur cabinet. He jerked the door open and stared into it, his hands starting to shake. He whispered the names of the different alcohols under his breath before finding a square bottle of Jack and yanking it from its holder. The warm brown liquid sloshed in the container and Dj shuddered with anticipation, popping the lid off and raising the glass to his lips. The alcohol slithered its way into his mouth, pouring over his tongue and down his throat. The taste was sharp and bitter on his taste buds and burned his throat like liquid flames, but he didn't care.

The pain was comforting.

It erased everything else, the shock of Tiffany's departure, the argument, and the night before. It erased the painful childhood memories of a wild, rebellious, out of control teen who had seen too much. It erased the memories of his mother, who had always been disappointed in her son.

It erased everything.

Dj felt comforted by this fact, and raised the bottle to his lips again. Before he knew it he'd gone through more than his body could handle, and he reacted by throwing up the contents of his stomach into the stainless steel sink. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, gripping the edge of the counter until his knuckles were white.

Then the tears started to come.

They burned his eyes and slid down his warm, red cheeks, and he couldn't help but feel angry, abandoned, and more importantly, _alone_. What have you done? His mind screamed at him hysterically, and Dj's damp eyes flicked about as he tried to decipher the answer to the question that his brain demanded to know.

Tiffany was all Dj had; he was the black sheep of his family and his only friend was the bottle of liquor he held loosely in his hand. As he sat there in deafening silence on the kitchen floor, heavily inked arms resting lightly on his denim-clad knees, he decided, no! He wasn't going to be alone tonight. No, he wasn't going to let Tiffany's words go to his head!

He stood drunkenly and set the half-empty bottle of Jacky D's on the marble counter and staggered up the bright stairway with the dozens of uniquely designed guitars lined up on the alabaster walls. As he pulled on clean clothes, his eyes caught sight of the gold-framed picture of him and Tiffany that had been taken with them in a park, and he felt a sudden rage build up in his chest. He grabbed it and flung it against the wall, the sound of shattering glass reaching his ears. As he left the bedroom, with its once-comforting band posters and messy bed-sheets, he felt his black-rimmed eyes start watering again. "Oh, for fuck's sake," he hissed, plucking the little metal keys from the glass bowl on a corner in the kitchen.

He reminded himself to get rid of it, since Tiffany had been the one to buy it and place it in their home. As he slid gracefully into the shiny black car, his hands resting on the ebony leather wheel, he couldn't help but feel sharp pangs of regret. He had been out of line, he realized while he backed out of the garage and started driving down the road towards town, and he should beg for her to come back...

No!

His grip tightened, his hands turning white. He wouldn't give in. He wouldn't. It was all _her_ fault, after all. She was the one who started this whole dramatic scenario. Tiffany had never needed him to come home at the end of the day; she was well enough off. And, come to think of it, Dj didn't want to come home to see her, anyway.

Several hours - and bars - later, and Dj found himself in the raunchy part of downtown L.A., where sex and drugs ruled with an iron fist. The young man, however, could care less. Maybe a little hit and a quick rebound fuck would do him good. With a heavy hart, Dj paid his way into a small strip club, heading straight through the writhing bodies and towards the bar. He sat down on a stool, the bright, colourful strobe lights flashing and pulsing in time with the booming music. Dj's body reacted to the heavy bass line thudding deep in his chest with little flipping and jolting feelings, which he promptly ignored. He had one word on his mind at this point: _Alcohol_.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Josh Ramsay sat in front of his dressing room mirror, smudging black kohl eyeliner around his cold, green eyes. This was an old trick he was taught by an old 'friend'; it made him look less like a stripper and more of a temptress. Only today, it just wasn't working. The thin man threw the eyeliner at the mirror. The reflection didn't show the seductress he had planned for, but instead a worn much-too-thin stripper and an out of control, desperate junkie. He wasn't sultry, or sexy. He was a useless heroin addict, and he was dying for a hit. Josh sighed, pushing his faded blue bangs into the rest of his shaggy black hair. It wasn't easy waking up on the streets and trying to appear attractive for money. If you could call it 'waking' up. The young man almost never slept, acute insomnia had plagued him for far too long. He let his tired eyes fall closed, ignoring the dull ache of hunger in his stomach, just waiting his turn to go on stage.

He stood weakly, wandering to the opening of the stage and watched the writing dancers in the club. Leaning on the frame, his eyes scanned the place, searching for a soul that would come take him from the miserable existence he was living. Suddenly, he locked on a figure sitting at the bar. He was tall, thin, and sucking back shots like they were water. He wasn't a regular, Josh noted, he was new. In fact, come to think of it, he had never seen him before. Tilting his head to the side curiously, Josh's innocent viridian eyes studied and examined the stranger as best as the flashing strobe lights would allow. He wanted to go sit at the bar, take in the man's appearance and he couldn't explain why. He just...seemed safe. It was only then he realized someone was pushing him on stage and his song was playing. It was time.

Josh took a deep breath and sauntered onto the already glitter covered stage. The lights dimmed and his hips started to sway to the heavy bass line. Sliding his hands down his sides and hips, he prepared himself for the show. The music filled him, making him forget the pain, the hunger, the tiredness. Approaching the metal pole in the middle of the stage, he glanced over at the man at the bar. He had silver eyes, and they were fixed on Josh's body. He quickly shook his head, clearing it of silly thoughts of love and swayed his hips slowly. This was lust, sex, and money, not foofy fairy tales.

He fluttered his long eyelashes at his audience, starting to slowly move his hips to the beat, writhing and grinding down to the floor. Rolling his hips into the bar, he wrapped a long, delicate hand around the metal, feeling the cold surface bite into his skin while he dropped his ass to the floor. Slowly, teasingly, he bumped his body back up the bar, showing off the curves of his slender figure to the viewers. Josh's tongue snaked out of his mouth and curved around his lips, wetting them slowly while showcasing the silver barbell that was embedded in the tip of his tongue. The lights flashed off of it, turning it from silver to blue, to green, to red, to gold. As he ran a long fingered hand through his hair, he slowly moved his hips to create small, slow thrusts into the bar while tossing his messy bangs to the side. The boy took a few sauntering steps from the pole, his hips rocking seductively while he stared the audience down with tempting half lidded eyes. Running back at the chrome metal, he gripped it high up, locking his ankles behind one another and allowed his body to slowly twirl down, his large eyes fixated on the ceiling, casting a young, youthful and innocent glow upon him. His ass touched the floor and he squirmed onto the black stage, the multi-colored glitter instantly adhering to his pale skin. Josh abruptly slammed the palms of his hands against the floor, arching his back hard and pushing his hips up, trying his absolute best to turn the audience on. The dancer let his viewers take in his slender, tiny body before sliding an elegant hand over the crimson tie that was looped loosely around his neck. While staring at his audience to keep them captivated, he untied it slowly and tossed it to the side, then focusing on the buttons on his white dress shirt. He undid them slowly, while on his knees, his body swaying rhythmically while he revealed the creamy white skin that his hands now touched, and he felt a sudden pang of longing, wishing, hoping to create an immense need for someone to handle and manipulate him the same way. With slightly shaking hands, Josh eventually worked the shirt off, allowing it to slide off of his thin arms to crumple upon the stage. The strobelights now glinted and shimmered off of two dainty silver barbells inserted along his prominent hipbones, showcasing the delicate curves of his body. Adrenaline filled his body and he shimmied to the heavy beat of his song, starting to slide his pianist fingers under the hem of his black leather pants.

As he gazed out into the audience, he wondered if someone was just aching, desiring and craving to have him. Shoving his thoughts aside, the stripper tipped his head back, looking at his viewers, taking note of the regular customers tossing big bills onto the stage for him. He let his pale green eyes flutter closed in disappointment before rolling onto his stomach and pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. Then, suddenly his sultry stare locked with the silver-eyed man that he recognized from the bar. All at once Josh felt and overwhelming sense of embarrassment for being so slutty, nothing but a whore, but yet he found himself wanting to do more to impress this perfect stranger, hoping and longing to convince the pale eyed man to take him home. Josh promptly crawled on his knees to the other potential clients, gathering their money in his shaky hands, the paper feeling dry and chalky. He was close; so close, he could taste the sweet drug upon his tongue, burning fire into his veins. These men, the ones that always lazed around here and watched him, were paying hundreds to spend one night with him, and to the stripteaser's disappointment, the chrome eyed man just wasn't throwing up any bills. Josh sighed, his heart suddenly sinking as his mood grew heavy, knowing in his mind that someone as striking as the man that sat so meekly before him could never possibly want anything as trashy and disgusting as himself. He was destined to be used and abused for the rest of his life; that was all there was to it.

Dj had migrated from the bar to get a front row seat directly in front of the black, glitter covered stage, pushing his way through bumping and grinding bodies to grab a seat before someone else did. His expression was intelligent and intrigued, his glinting chrome hued eyes locked on the writhing body in front of him. The boy was quite unlike anything he'd seen before, with long, gangly limbs and a tiny waist. Dj glanced down at his hands momentarily, idly debating whether they could completely wrap around the boy's stomach. His hair was a strange mix of onyx and sapphire, hanging in front of his wide, innocent green eyes. Dj studied this unique creature intently, instantly wondering things, the thoughts raced through his mind at breakneck speed.

What was his name?

Where did he live?

What was he doing in a place like this?

Why was he dancing?

Dj attempted to stop those thoughts that were careening out of control, whisking his fantasy away to a romantic setting. He imagined buying the boy, then just sitting him down somewhere and talking to him, exploring every nook and cranny in his brain. Suddenly, as he stared up at the body on the stage, he couldn't help but wonder something else. How old was this kid, anyway? He didn't appear to be more than sixteen, but surely the club had some morals and wouldn't hire an illegal boy...?

Surely not.

The overwhelming urge to talk to the stripper ebbed further into Dj's mind, burrowing beneath the surface and nesting there, where it festered and grew until the troubled, drunk man couldn't handle it anymore. He found himself dumping hundred dollar bills on the stage haphazardly, yearning to buy the dancer. He longed to press his lips to the boy's, touch him, taste him...

_Fuck him._

An unnerved, nervous feeling washed over Dj's physique, swimming in the acid of his stomach, and he sat there like a child getting punished as his brain chided him. What possibly made him want to sleep with a dude? He was straight. Nothing but straight.

But oh, how he longed to reach out and touch him...

Josh prepared himself mentally to go home with one of the creeps, glancing back to his perfect stranger, noticing the dollar bills on the stage. He bit down hard on his cheek to keep from grinning, crawling over to the man, hoping he threw up more money then the regulars. Counting it subtly, he fluttered his eyelashes at the gorgeous man, taking in his messy raven hair, piercing eyes and full lips sectioned off by a lip ring in the middle. Almost immediately, he realized the man had thrown up more than anyone had in his career. Josh was stunned. Did this perfect stranger want him too? He slid off the stage, forcing the dollar bills back into the silver eyed man's hand; He was sure this person didn't want to be the supplier of his drug money, the cause of his death.

"You don't have to do this." Josh stated to the man, looking right past him, fighting his own feelings. The man stood up and offered the money back.

"I know. I want to." His voice was comforting, smooth and delicious to Josh's ears. He sighed, took half of the bills and smiled half-heartedly.

"Just…stay here okay? I'll meet you here," Josh looked at his regular clients with a nervous stare, noticing with great unease that they all looked quite angry with the newcomer. "Err…come with me." The young boy flipped his ebony hair out of his eyes and paced back to his dressing with quick, long strides, his long legs covering ground quickly. He went and gathered his jacket and his prized heroin, which he had earned for himself; not something he was proud of. While he was in his room, gathering his things with shaky, trembling hands, he hoped and prayed silently that the stunning man that had bought him - and was now following him - wouldn't hurt him like all the others had. He had to be different, right? Someone as breathtaking as him wouldn't just use him. He was simply too pretty to be capable of it. As they reached the doorway, Josh turned to face the tall man in front of him. He stared up at his face with large, innocent green eyes, and his lips trembled as he spoke. "Stay here," he said with a quavering voice, quickly unlocking the door and slipping inside the dingy room silently to pay for the two bags and the rigs for his precious heroin that he was so desperate to use. He hid the objects in his worn black leather trench coat, which he wrapped tightly around his body before walking back to the man. He simply nodded, letting the gorgeous man know he was ready to go. The man grinned, revealing a bright toothy grin that made Josh weak in the knees. This stranger was so insanely beautiful it was almost unbelievable. He led Josh out of the dingy club and into the cool night air. It was quiet but Josh knew all sorts of trouble that was happening in the silence.

"So. Tell me. What's your name?" Josh looked up at the man with wide eyes, the moon highlighting his features and making him seem even more unattainable.

"J-Josh. Ramsay." He offered a meek smile to try and not seem so strung out or going through withdrawals.

"Josh…I like Josh. It's cute," He grinned down at Josh, making his heart skip a beat. "I'm Dj Ashba."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_What the fuck are you doing, boy?_

Dj's mind screamed at him harshly, chidingly. The raven-haired boy was straight, right? No ifs, ands or buts about it. He was into women, and many a women he did have. Blonds, brunettes, redheads, ebony...he'd had them all at one point in his life. Growing up as a child with a very strict, religious mother caused one to rebel, and Dj did anything he could to get a little taste of freedom, to feel the adrenaline rushing and coursing through his veins. He found that fix first in drinking, sneaking booze into his house and hiding it stealthily, then the drinking was followed by the loss of his virginity in the back of a car at fifteen; it soon progressed to a nasty cocaine addiction that caused him to transform and whirl out of control.

So, what was he doing here with this boy?

Dj's brilliant silver eyes surveyed the glitter-covered dancer in front of him, taking in the angular face set with full, flushed lips and sad green eyes that stared at him questioningly. His long arms were wrapped tightly around his tiny waist insecurely, and his white teeth made a small appearance as they dug into his plump bottom lip. Already Dj found himself to be smitten, and he couldn't help himself.

The moon smiled down on the drug-infested streets of Los Angeles, oddly cheerful despite the echoing despair that radiated off of the people that wandered the sidewalks. Pounding music and driving beats could be heard from every little club, the loud, obnoxious laughs of drunken people reverberating through the cool night air. Dj silently led Josh down the street towards his black truck, constantly looking back to make sure the stripper was following him. The man didn't speak as he dug into his leather jacket pocket, pulling out the keys to the dark looming vehicle in front of them. The lights flashed as he unlocked it and pulled the passenger door open for Josh, waiting until he crawled in to the cold leather seat before walking around to his side.

Dj stuck the key into the ignition and gave it a twist, hear the truck roar to life. He quickly flicked the heat on, assuming the frail dancer's shaking was due to being cold. "Anywhere in particular you like to eat?"

Josh looked up with large, confused eyes. "What?" He asked, his voice trembling as he tried to muffle the withdrawals that were clawing him apart on the inside. Dj turned to look at Josh, pale eyes searching the boy's face. "A restaurant to eat. I'm taking you out for dinner."

"Why?" Confusion boiled inside Josh's tired mind, and he was frustrated by the fact that he couldn't figure this stranger out. Why on earth would someone as beautiful as him want to spend time with, let alone _feed_ trash such as himself? The young junkie was good for one thing alone, and that was sexual pleasure. He wasn't good company, after all. He was too quiet, too shy and reserved to be of any good conversation. Dj's sweet voice reached his ears again, causing the tremors to subside momentarily. "Because, you look like you could seriously use a meal."

Dj watched the stripper for another moment while silence filled the cab of the truck, then, upon deciding that he wasn't going to get a reaction, he put the pickup in drive and maneuvered it towards his one of his favorite restaurants. The drive was silent, though Dj continually glanced over towards the shy boy beside him. How ever would he start his onslaught of questions? He wondered, and then decided it would probably be better if he didn't startle his lover...

Lover?

_Whoa, hold up, Deej. _His brain said, and Dj blinked, taken aback. The scrawny boy beside him wasn't a lover...he wasn't anything close. He was just the nearest charity case and sad soul that had it worse off than he did. Dj was only paying him any mind to make himself feel better, right? The good old do-good-to-the-community, or some shit like that. Taking the dancer out for dinner was nothing but a bit of good-doing to make himself feel better...right?

Josh sat in the man's truck, the cold leather biting into his exposed skin. Dj Ashba; the name slid off his tongue smoothly, like no one else's had before. He suddenly longed to say it out loud, moan it. Josh noticed that the man kept glancing over at him and suddenly the boy felt confused. Was he to feel uncomfortable, or wanted? Maybe a bit of both? He bit into his bottom lip, wondering how he should tell the man what his hourly rate is. He really didn't want to ask money from Dj, even if he needed it. The silver eyed man was just too gorgeous to pay street trash like him. Josh's frail body began to shake, the withdrawals clawing and raking underneath his skin from the lack of heroin. Dj turned the heat up higher and the young dancer smiled to himself. His client was sweet, thinking he was just cold; no one had ever cared about him like this.

"How old are you Josh?" The stranger's voice melted through the silence and Josh looked up surprised.

"I…uhm…twenty-two." The boy replied softly, his voice quiet and timid. Why did this man care so much about the small little details? He wasn't that interesting, no, he couldn't possibly be.

"Wow, that young huh?" Dj laughed softly, his laughs making the deep shakes in Josh's body stop momentarily. There was something so comforting about this man that Josh couldn't explain but he wanted the feelings to last. It was the first time the young boy felt safe in a long time and he wondered if Dj noticed.

"And you?" Josh wasn't sure why, but he felt compelled to ask his new stranger questions back.

"I'm thirty." He replied, glancing over to Josh quickly with a smile, before focusing on pulling into a parking lot at a diner. A shy but polite smile tugged at Josh's lips as he watched Dj jog around the front of the truck, opening the door for him. The young boy stepped out of the truck delicately at felt Dj's hand on the small of his back. He shuddered and rubbed his arms as they entered the restaurant, the other customers and patrons looking up at them in obvious distaste. Dj confidently led the glitter covered dance to a small, private booth in the back, obviously uncaring of everyone else's thoughts. Josh couldn't help but admire him for this. What must it be like to walk with such confidence? Dress and look the way you wanted to without others penetrating stares?

"How long has it been since you've last had something to eat?" Dj asked quietly, getting menus from a passing waitress. Suddenly Josh was faced with an ultimatum; Lie to make the man feel better and starve? Or tell the truth and have the man pit him?

"C-couple days?" Josh shrugged, not lying but not exactly telling the truth, it had been more like months since he ate. Dj frowned, instantly worried for the young boy, ordering them both cheeseburgers. Chewing his lip, Josh focused on his hands, pulling the sleeves of the worn black jacket down over his pale arms, hiding years of scars, cuts and track marks. He wondered if this new man would just ignore them like the other clients or actually bother to ask him about the marks. Glancing back up at his perfect stranger through long dark eyelashes, he found Dj studying him. Josh bit down on his lip hard and returned to his hands, a blush creeping up on his skin.

"Why haven't you eaten in so long?" Dj pried, trying to find out more information about the dancer, wondering what his situation was.

"Not enough money I guess?" Josh picked at the black nail polish that was already chipping on his thumb."

"Is that why you str-work there?" Dj whispered softly, afraid of upsetting the younger boy.

"Sure." Josh mumbled, still focused on chipping off the nail polish, his nervous habit. Pursing his pierced lips, Dj decided to change the subject, understanding Josh's unwillingness to talk.

"So where are you from?" Dj asked kindly, watching his company intently, studying his reactions.

"Vancouver…Canada." Josh managed to choke out shyly.

"This is a long way from home, hey? Why'd you move here?" Dj quirked a brow, intrigued and confused by the glitter skinned boy. Josh just shrugged and looked out the window, looking up the dark alleys, seeing familiar dealers, flashbacking to why he was brought here.

"_You're good at that," A tall, dark, handsome man tossed Josh his clothes, cleaning himself off. "You'd make a killing selling that pretty mouth and throat of yours. I should take you to LA. Make you famous." Josh could only pull his jeans back on, sniff and nod, doing whatever the man wanted. _

The young addict's blue eyes wandered up from their booth the bathroom, wondering how fast he could sneak a needle now, get high and be comfortable talking to this gorgeous man.

"Are you alright, Josh?" Dj's words broke his thoughts suddenly.

"Mhmm," He nodded, fingering the rigs in his jacket pocket, looking up at Dj, his only obstacle in the way of his fix. "C-can I…get up for a second?"

"Hmmm," Suddenly it dawned on Dj that this young boy was in a lot more trouble than he suspected. Josh looked desperate, like an addict of some sort. "Nope. I'm an ass, get over it." He hoped to laugh it off and keep this innocent boy from doing something harmful.

"You're not an ass," Josh mumbled. "You're too nice. It's probably better this way." Before Dj could reply, their food arrived and the older handed the younger his plate, hoping he would eat.

"How long have you been…dancing?" Dj took a large bite, watching Josh for a reply.

"Since I was eighteen." Dj nudged his plate closer and Josh peeled a small bit off the bun, rolling it between his fingers before sliding it past his lips.

"Shit! You are way too young for that!"

"It's a living." Josh shrugged, picked up the burger and took a small delicate bite; not wanting to waste the gorgeous mans money. As soon as the taste touched his tongue, his stomach begged for more and the young boy dug into the burger. He took bite after bite, pausing to chew when his cheeks were full much like a chipmunk. He had forgotten how good real food tasted when it was hot.

"But someone as gorgeous as you shouldn't have to suffer through that." Dj sighed, taking another bite.

"You think I'm gorgeous?" Josh looked up at Dj, his deep blue eyes wide with shock, his cheeks still somewhat full.

"Hell yeah I do!" Dj laughed, so intrigued at how innocent this escort boy actually was, finding he wanted to see much more of him.

"You're not supposed to." Josh swallowed and placed the rest of the burger back down on the plate, turning to look out the window.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not supposed to care. You're not supposed to buy me dinner. You're not supposed to ask questions about me, care about how long I've been doing this. You shouldn't think I'm gorgeous." Josh sniffled, hating himself for tricking the gorgeous man into liking him. He was nothing but a junkie and Dj did not need that in his life. He pulled his knees up into his chest and let a few tears fall from his eyes. Dj carefully assessed the situation before placing a hand on the bony shoulder of the crying boy.

"What should I do, Josh?"

"You're just supposed to fuck me and give me money to feed the monster." Josh wiped at tears angrily, noticing Dj massaging his shoulder, pulling him in closer to his body.

"I don't want to fuck you," He whispered. "And the monster? What are you addicted to?"

"Why do you care?"

"I used to be an addict too." Dj was practically resting his chin on Josh's shaking shoulder, one hand massaging Josh's side while the other worked on his upper arm. Josh turned to look at him in confusion.

"You did? To what?"

"Cocaine, little bit of heroin here and there." Dj answered honestly, hoping to get Josh to open up. Josh nodded, for some reason feeling completely safe under Dj's touch.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Dj smiled softly, feeling Josh relax slightly. "Do you want to come back to my place tonight?" Josh blinked his watery, blue eyes.

"Is that okay?" He wiped at the last of his tears away, his full bottom lip still trembling lightly.


End file.
